TheLionRampant.net

(The title is referencing my own, oftentimes little, faith).

Wow. The Lord has continued to bless us. I just found out that I have been offered the ORS — Overseas Research Award for next year (with the possibility of renewal after that). ORS pays the difference between the UK/EU tuition rate and the international rate, which is a difference of about 5-6000 GBP (that’s a lot of US$ at this point too). That means I’m tuition-free for the rest of my schooling! We are blown away by God’s goodness.

Scottish Presbyterians are remarkably anti-Roman Catholic. They avoid anything that even hints of Catholicism, so worship services tend to be incredibly minimalistic (so as not to be confused with Catholic liturgy). Even though some of the most conservative Presbyterians adhere vehemently to the Regulative Principle, the Lord’s Prayer is not recited in church, because written prayers are ‘Romish’.

Yet for all their anti-Catholic sentiments, Scottish Presbyterians, in general, are surprisingly Catholic when it comes to one important area: the Priesthood of All Believers. The Priesthood of All Believers is one of the central tenents of the Protestant Reformation. Whereas the Roman Catholic Church said (and still says) that ‘ordinary’ Christians need a priest to intercede between God and man, Luther, Calvin and their followers affirmed that Jesus Christ is the great High Priest through whom we have direct access to God. All who believe in Christ, therefore, are priests, since we are hidden in Christ. The pastor of a church, therefore, is not closer to God than the members of the congregation; he simply has a special role to play in the life of the church. Yet many Christians here have put ‘the minister’ on a pedestal, believing (at least in practice) that ‘the minister’ is better able to perform a number of functions which should truly be the responsibility of every Christian.

What is the point of all this, you ask? The point is that this is not merely an idiosyncracy common to a group of people in a country that most American Christians would have a hard time pointing out on a map. This is a problem that, I believe, is also infecting churches in the US. Sure, we would never say that pastors are better Christians than anyone else who believes in Jesus. Yet many pastors have become more than just pastors–they have become celeberties. If you need proof, just look at what happens when a well-known pastor leaves a church. Much of what attracts us to a church is not so much the ministry of the church itself, but the charismatic leader at the helm. When the pastor leaves, all chaos breaks out. Instead of waiting for the dust to settle, groups form and people decide to follow charismatic-leader-man wherever he lands next.

There are, of course, several problems with this. First, it indicates that we are not serious about the fellowship and community in our churches. Many of us have settled for a church with community in the name instead of having community in the church itself. But as members of the Body of Christ, we have a commitment to the local church. We are members of the church, not of the pastor’s fan club. Sure, we may have been attracted to a church because the pastor preached biblical sermons. But once we have joined a church we have a commitment to that church, come what may. If the pastor leaves we need to trust that the God who brought Bible-Preacher #1 will bring Bible-Preacher #2. But we can’t just bail on the rest of the Body of Christ because charismatic-leader-guy is moving.

Secondly, this problem puts too much attention on pastors as individuals. There are few celebrities who don’t know that they are celebrities, and there are few celebrities who don’t act like they are celebrities. When a pastor becomes a celebrity, he starts acting like one–he stops shepherding souls and starts booking speaking engagements and book-signings. He expects people to show up and listen to him. He begins to believe that he has something important to say and basis his own worth on the success of his message. John Piper, in his book Brothers, We Are Not Professionals, says ‘We pastors are being killed by the professionalizing of the pastoral ministry. . . professionalism has nothing to do with the essence and heart of the Christian ministry. The more professional we long to be, the more spiritual death we will leave in our wake. For there is no professional childlikeness, there is no professional tenderheartedness. There is no professional panting after God.’

I think about sums it up. I recently heard a very encouraging story about a pastor of a very large church. Every Sunday, as he is getting into the pulpit to preach to a couple thousand people, he says to the congregation, ‘you are not my righteousness’. Now he doesn’t say this so that everyone can hear him. But he does it to remind himself that preaching to thousands of people is not the goal towards which all pastors strive, and which a talented few attain. He does it to remind himself that even if he preaches the worst sermon of his life, he is righteous in the sight of God because of Jesus. This is the gospel message, and it is antithetical to the cult of celebrity. For both celebrities and those who follow them have missed the boat. We are the church, the people of God, and we exist because of the grace of Christ. In him there is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither celebrity nor groupie.

I had my first year PhD review today; surprisingly it was very helpful rather than intimidating. Here are some of the comments from my review summary: “Ashley has done some impressive work this year. Her thesis deals with some sophisticated concepts and her topic has excellent possibilities for original archival research, and comparative literary criticism. [...] Her submission has too many big ideas, with not enough focus’. And ‘The thesis demonstrates some impressive ambition, achivement and a great deal of potential. But in order for this potential to be realised, Ashley will have to work hard on structuring the themes of the thesis and clarifying its overall aims’.

Stuff I knew and have been agonising over: too broad. too big. too much. Questions of how to structure this massive thing called a PhD continue to plague me (why can’t inspiration drop down from the sky?) but I’m glad to have been confirmed that once I ‘work hard’ and figure this structuring thing out — i.e. what I’m actually talking about here — things should be interesting and hopefully helpful to a wider audience and should result in my getting a cool gown and a nifty cap in a few years’ time.

First, here are the pictures from our weekend. (Look at the next page too).

Friday, we went to Greenock (about 30 mins outside of Glasgow) for Lori’s birthday party — a 18th century murder mystery. We had enough time in Glasgow to grab a rootbeer float en route to the train station for only 40p each; we think the girl at the counter was a little confused, but we didn’t complain! We arrived at the McFarlanes’ for a fun few hours of murdery mystery, lots of laughs, and a lovely meal. We also got to meet some of their friends, but unfortunately our night was rather short as we had to leave on the 10.55 train to make it back to Edinburgh.

Also, that night a friend from college also had his first child back in the States.

Saturday morning we took the train up to Banchory and got to help out at Oliver’s cowboy birthday party that afternoon. We had a lovely walk around Crathes castle gardens and good conversation with Kerry and Carter as always. We went to church on Sunday and then for a walk at Cambus O’ May while Marcet and Kerry went for a fundraising bike ride. Today we enjoyed the sunshine down by the River Dee and dodged some rather fly-away castings by a novice flyfisher and later this evening travelled back to Edinburgh.

In other news, Bryce starts exams a week from tomorrow. His posts may be rather slight this next fortnight. Wednesday I have my first year PhD review with a few profs; hopefully that will go well and will spur me on to the next part of the dissertation. Other than that, we’re looking forward to the longer nights of sunshine, to moving out of our flat into somewhere a bit nicer or larger with a bathtub hopefully (this is Ashley’s wish), to our summer vacations and to (slightly) warmer days. It is very interesting having grown up in the land of forever sunshine to experience the excitement of spring (although lately here it has been a spring flirtation without any real commitment); the daffodils are gorgeous, the sun makes me happy and there is a certain psychological weight that is lifted upon putting away your heavy coat and just going about in a light jacket, if that.

That is all.

Earlier today I sent an email to a magazine company, letting them know that I would no longer be reading their magazine because they had failed to meet my needs. This company, like all others, exists to fill a need, actual or perceived, in the lives of consumers. When a company no longer fills such a need consumers will no longer pay for their products. So, overly-idealistic as it may be, I informed this magazine today that they are no longer meeting my needs, in the hopes that this may change the way they go about their business in the future. If enough people join me, it’s possible change will result. This, from what I can recall of my high school economics class, is basic capitalism. Businesses are businesses, and this is the way they operate.

But this is not the way things are supposed to work in the church. If you have been around for the last couple of weeks you will know that I’m not a fan of the purpose-driven, seeker-sensitive church model. These churches have forsaken, at least to a certain degree, the principles of ministry taught in the Bible and replaced them with supply-and-demand capitalism. This makes worshippers into consumers of church, which in turn creates a whole host of problems, theologically/biblically and practically. I’d like to highlight one problem in particular, one which I think is perhaps the most glaring indictment of the seeker-sensitive model: when worshippers become consumers of church, they posses the same power that I have when I tell a magazine they must change to retain my business. In other words, those in the pews dictate what comes out of the pulpit. In our society this may not sound like a bad thing; after all, we’re in favour of egalitarianism. Upon further reflection, however, the ridiculousness of this situation becomes clear.

God has equipped each of his people with different gifts and abilities. Some people have a servant’s heart–they love doing things behind the scenes and don’t care to be acknowledged for their efforts. Other people have been given a friendly, outgoing nature which allows them to make people feel welcomed immediately. God has given others knowledge, depth of insight, and discernment to guide and govern his church. It only makes sense that those with such qualifications lead the church in making difficult decisions about the style and content of the worship service, among other things. Paul commands as much in 1 Timothy 3 and Titus 1-2. Specifically, Paul says that elders (or overseers) ‘must hold firm to the trustworthy word as taught, so that [they] may be able to give instruction in sound doctrine and also to rebuke those who contradict it’ (Titus 1:9). It is the elders, those who match up to a standard which is incredibly humbling when I consider that I myself am measured against it (see 1 Tim 3:1-7 and Titus 1:5-16), who are entrusted with this task, not just any Christian, and specifically not ‘weaker’ Christians.

Yet the seeker-sensitive model turns the biblical mandate on its head. Instead of using their wisdom to organise the worship service such that God’s glory is pre-eminent, leaders of these churches have pandered to the desires of those least qualified to be making such important decisions. The service is not designed primarily to spur and enable people to worship; it is designed so as to make everyone feel comfortable. As much as possible is done to make people happy, so the church doesn’t receive letters from people like me informing them that we are taking our seat-filling, dollar-giving selves elsewhere. These churches know words like ‘repentance’ and ’sin’ will drive people away if used too often; they are convinced that no one today knows what ‘thee’ or ‘thou’ mean; they have the marketing research to prove that people simply will not stay at a church with bad music. And so they tip-toe around the great truths of the Bible and forsake the rich tradition of the church when they should be saying, ‘look, we know this doesn’t make sense and is completely foreign, but there are life and death truths at stake, so we’re gonna give it to you straight’.

The seeker-sensitive model is completely backwards. It places those least-capable of making spiritual decisions in control of the worship of God. It tells more mature Christians to stand aside and figure out how to survive on a spiritual Atkins Diet. And it encourages all of us, not to strive for the ideal, but to let the ends justify the means. Whether or not this method is actually effective is highly questionable; whether or not it is permissible to the Word of God is not in question at all.

So what do we do? Well, if you’re in a church that views worshippers as consumers, I say write the letters, talk to the powers that be, and tell them what you really want is for them to not care about your opinion so much. Tell them you want the law and the gospel, plain and simple. At the interpersonal level those who are more mature, discerning Christians have to be willing to point our friends and family who are less so in the right direction.

I remember once in high school I succeeded in getting a friend to come to an ‘evangelistic’ play at church with me. There was no real substance; not even enough to stimulate conversation afterwards. I now wish I had taken him to a worship service where the gospel was proclaimed clearly and boldly, in its full offence. I had already accomplished the hard work of getting my friend to come to a ‘church’ event with me; why did I waste it? I’m sure I thought I’d start him off easy and he’d move up to the weightier stuff. Well, he never came back. It’s not that he was put off by it, he just left for college. And we haven’t spoken since. He didn’t know what he needed; I did, and didn’t get it to him. I don’t despair because I know that God is sovereign and I am not capable of thwarting his will. Still, I also know that he requires my best (and quite a bit more).

I pray that God would still draw Mike to himself, as well as other friends I’ve let down by pandering to their desires. We don’t have a product to sell, we have a great gospel to proclaim. I think that about sums it up.

…and there’s a ton of things I haven’t done that I should have done and yet I find myself strangely stilled, like all is right in the world (and I know it’s not even from my own experience of the world), like I can breathe, that my life is in slow-motion rather than 5th gear; it’s something like a poetic impulse without the poetry. There’s a lot of things mulling about inside that make me feel this way — our new Jars CD (linked below) Redemption Songs is one. I’ve uploaded the CD to my iPod and as I walk around the city, I am so utterly refreshed by the depth of language in those hymns we deem so inaccessible because of difficult tunes. “He will lift up your head” has been particularly stuck in me lately. Another thing is re-reading the article (again, linked below in Recommendations) on Christians and Environmental Positions and Laura’s short reflections on it; I’m again quite convicted and feel ready to do something about it.

Finally, I have had such a wonderful experience reading about and looking at Makoto Fujimura’spaintings. And I’m pretty inept at modern art, but this stuff is amazing. I think what really speaks to me is the way in which themes like Redemption, Grace, Atonement, and Mercy are portrayed in dazzling colours; hefty theological themes don’t lose their depth but when transformed through art resonate so much with me. Take a look through his web site, read his essays and a great tidbit or two on his faith and art. It will lift up your spirit.

Sheep lie down when they are well fed (cf. Psalm 23:2); they are more likely to be restless when they are hungry. “Feed my sheep,” Jesus commanded Peter (John 21); and many sheep are unfed. If you wish to deepen the worship of the people of God, above all deepen their grasp of his ineffable majesty in his person and in all his works.

Read more of D A Carson’s thoughts on worship here

Ok, how cool is this? I came across this site, which is providing free Christian books in exchange for reviewing them on our blog! I’ve been thinking about posting some book reviews anyway, and I’m always a fan of free books. So I’m looking forward to seeing how this works out. I missed out on a couple of really interesting titles since I just found out about it, but I’m sure there will be many more to come. My first book to review should arrive shortly, so I’ll be letting you know what I think at that time (yes, I know, the anticipation is killing you). Until then, ummmm, keep checking our blog. Cheers.

I was feeling pretty blah earlier today. I don’t feel like I have any good friends. I haven’t heard from my friends back home (with a couple notable exceptions) since we were there in January. Sometimes I think I’m just a jerk, or I can’t relax enough, or something, and it freaks people out. A lot of it is my own insecurities and not feeling included unless I’m specifically invited, both of which are probably heightened by living in a different culture.

Some of this feeling is probably helpful, in as much as it helps me re-align my priorities. And I’m likely to have few really close friends as a pastor. Still, it feels pretty lonely at times.

Since I was feeling pretty lame, Ash and I had banana splits for dinner and watched the Station Agent, which was very good (and strangely appropriate, now that I think about it). Something about shirking normal adult practices of eating a balanced dinner and studying like I should seems to alleviate things a bit. So that’s good.

So, woe is me, I guess. Maybe it will actually be spring when I wake up tomorrow and life will look better. Either that or I’ll become a hermit for the next couple weeks and end up acing my finals.

What personality type are you attracted to in your friendships?

From what I can remember my elementary school best friend was probably an ESTJ, my junior high best friend an ENFP, my high school and college good friends were ISTJs (I’m guessing this is what Katie is), ENFPs and INFJs. I don’t know if I can come up with some pattern about what this means about me, and really doubt if I actually want to systematise something as personal as friendships, but I know the things that have attracted me to certain friends have tended to be some sort of depth of personality and interiority, to know and share deep thoughts (this often means that this potential friend is an Introvert — likes to be alone and think of things — or at least an intuitive (N) and/or Feeling person. I’ve always preferred discussing the personal over the abstract, but do enjoy a bit of abstraction thrown in for good measure — and of course, to prevent too much navel-gazing.

It’s pretty pathetic: I don’t seem to have much time for those who aren’t introspective to some degree; I abolutely cannot fathom a personality that is all exterior. I wish I had more grace than that (maybe I just have too much J!). I also tend to gravitate towards those that ride a fine line between iNtuition and Sensing and Feeling and Thinking. I have enough rational logic (although Bryce might beg to differ as my common sense category is woefully short-shifted) as I’ve grown up to want those who can evaluate their feelings without running away within them, enough of a grounded base in more factual things than being tossed around with every trend of (insert appropriate adjective here) fashion. I have always been attracted to extroverts because they’re so engaging and fun to be around; I like being friends with Ps but often the flakiness can really get to me. But my best friends have tended to be those with whom I feel comfortable to share my big ideas (or insignificant ones); and this comfortable factor usually stems from intuiting that a potential friend also likes to dream, analyse, be creative and reflective. That’s my 2 cents; feel free to share yours.